


Making You Mine

by Spazztastic



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Almost smut, Asgard (Marvel), Dirty Talk, Dream Sex, F/M, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I'm Not Ashamed, Light BDSM, Sexual Fantasy, Someone being a tease, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-05
Updated: 2018-04-05
Packaged: 2019-04-18 22:01:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14222685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spazztastic/pseuds/Spazztastic
Summary: I just don't even know with this.  It's been sitting in docs for a while now and I figured I post it.   Yay me.





	Making You Mine

"Loki?" Your voice was whisked away on the wind, drowning in the distance. Trembling, you wrapped your arms about yourself, rubbing your skin to generate what warmth you could. This was his dream, as were the ones from the past week, so where was he? 

You were in Asgard once more, standing on the balcony of one of the golden towers. your hair was curled into ringlets, thick golden bands and emeralds woven decoratively in the tresses that were left to hang down your back and over your shoulders--which now that you paid attention, were bare to the wind. With a curious glance down, you took in the costume he had dreamed up for you tonight. Your frame was draped in a black gown; the sleeves of which settled just off your shoulders, were tight to your arms all the way to your wrist, where the fabric extended around the backs of your hands, looping about your middle fingers. A thick braid of emerald curved over the apex of your shoulders, the neckline high on your chest, thin strips of bright emerald shimmered in delicately intricate patterns along the edges. The cinched golden corset situated above the billowing silk of the dress made it hard for you to take a deep enough breath to call out any louder. Sighing, you turned and headed into the room attached to the balcony. Normally, you would be astounded by the attire he picked for your, especially when it was something so gorgeous, but you just couldn't muster the emotion. 

Once inside, you turned and closed the doors, leaning your forehead against the cool surface. The moment your eyes closed and you took a deep breath, you knew which room he'd placed you outside. His room. You could tell by the smell that hung in the air; leather and cinnamon, a strong, distinct scent that despite the warmth of both smells, seared your nostrils and throat with an icy sting, as if you were outside in a blizzard, breathing in falling snow. After a moment of just breathing, if only to calm yourself down, you turned to begin storming through the halls to find the man that had dragged you here. Two steps were all you took before the door to his bedroom swung open, and there he stood, towering before you. All that breathing you'd done made no difference, because as you looked at him--and he at you--you lost all oxygen. In his leathers and armour, he looked formidable and commanding and unbelievably sexy. His eyes on you were possessive, as they had been from the beginning--his gaze moved over you head to toe, and then up again, a smirk curving his lips at his handiwork.

"You wear my colours well," Loki's voice was cool and precise, sending a shiver down your spine as he stepped fully into the room, the door pulling closed behind him with a crook of his finger. 

The moment the door latched, you snapped out of the daze his presence always caused with a growl. You advanced on him, the smooth material of your gown fluttering wildly about your legs as you went. "You," you scowled, keeping your voice hushed for some irrational reason, "explain yourself! You've been riding my brain like a mechanical bull on ladies' night and it's giving me whiplash. Last night you said you wanted nothing more to do with me, and now I'm in your bedroom. Where am I supposed to go with that!?"

Loki had watched you silently, one brow arching as you laid into him. But honestly, he paid no attention to your words. It was the fire in your eyes, growing as you became more irate, that held his attention. He was the only one you were so verbal with, you had confessed this yourself, and his inquisitive nature caused him to find himself rather driven to find out why. "My bed, of course," he replied smoothly, chuckling when your skin took on a faint blush and your jaw fell open. His emerald gaze flickered with the playful mischief you knew so well as his hand came up, elegant fingers gripping your chin to guide your mouth closed once more. His thumb slid over your bottom lip and your chest shuddered as you took a shaky breath. "I have realized of late that I do not know you as well as I should," he spoke slowly, the corner of his mouth crooking up in the hint of a smirk when your eyes locked on his lips for the briefest of moments. "I wish to know you better, which would entail you and I--preferably seated--somewhere comfortable, would it not?"

"We could be at my place; you know what it looks like," you blurted, still painfully aware of the strong, cold grip on you. 

The man before your let out another low chuckle, his fingers releasing your chin to glide over your neck and the exposed curve of your shoulder, taking note of the way your lips parted ever so slightly at his touch. "You are displeased with Asgard?"

You made a soft grunt in your throat, rolling your eyes. "No. Asgard is... amazing. This," you waved an arm to indicate yourself as a whole, because you knew he expected some sort comment on it, "is gorgeous and I know I don't deserve to look this good for any reason at all, so..." your voice trailed off, your brain refusing to cooperate any further as his fingers dove into the mass of curls at the left side of your head. His hand curled about the back of your skull, pulling you against him. Your arms shot between them, your palms flat against the plate armour covering his chest, as he forced you to tip your head back to look at him. 

"Then why are you attempting to stall me?" His voice took on the hint of an edge as he bent toward you. You could see the irritation with you in his carefully calculated expression, even if he was trying to hide it. 

You had no clue whether to straighten your spine in defiance and hit him with some witty retort or shrink down under his steely gaze and give in. So you did neither. you stayed where you were, your face inches from his as he held you in place. "Because you know me already," you breathed, sounding much more feminine and breathless than you had originally intended.

Another smirk touched his lips as he dropped his mouth to yours in a searingly slow kiss, making your own lips tingle. It was over as soon as it had happened, but he kept his head against yours a moment longer before he leaned back again. His voice was calmer as he spoke again, "Oh, no, my dear. I do not know you; the version of me that lives in your dreams knows you." He paused, that dangerously wicked glint returning to his eyes. "He knows you very well, doesn't he?"

Your eyes shot wide open, your heart nearly stopping in your chest, as you gasped out his name. It was meant to be a reprimand, but it sounded more like a moan of pleasure. One that would only be heard by your dream Loki under other circumstances, but now the real Loki had heard it. Even though these were just dreams, they had real ramifications, since both of them were, in fact, themselves still. It was like setting off a domino effect; your voice triggered something in the man before you and before you knew exactly what was happening, he had swept you from your feet. Your arms shot around his neck, clutching to him with unnecessary force. Pressed so tightly to his chest, a thought occurred to you, "Is that what this is about? Sex?"

"My dear, no," Loki nearly purred to you, the short distance to his bed having been covered in three of his long strides. With ease, he placed a knee on the mattress, leaning forward to deposit you in front of him, "Tonight is about making you mine. I have seen the things you dream. I know of the torrid romance you've conjured for us in your own world. Is it so bad that I am curious to see if you would truly allow such a thing?"

Your breathing hitched, as if your throat had collapsed upon itself. "You knew?" you croaked weakly after finding your voice, staring up to him with eyes as wide as a doe's. 

"Of course I knew," Loki cooed, moving toward your over the bed. He was utterly graceful in the feline way he slinked over you. Unknowingly, you leaned backward, pressing yourself into the plush covers and pillows beneath your back. Your retreat only seemed to please him more as he spoke again, "I know you see no man other than me. I know how you sound when you are writhing in a delightful mixture of pain and ecstasy; how your lips kiss my name each time you utter it."

"Loki--"

"Yes, just like that," he praised, cutting your protest short. He hadn't even touched you since putting you down and you felt... ravaged. Emotionally and mentally. "Tell me, my darling, what is your favourite fantasy?"

You gulped, your throat suddenly dry. "I don't have one," you squeaked, the tip of your tongue sliding across your lips in a show of vulnerability. 

"Do not lie to me," he growled, the emerald of his eyes darkening.

Your teeth caught at your bottom lip as your gaze darted quickly from his, only to shoot right back. You couldn't look away from him for long, not when he was this close. Not when he was asking something of you that you had already partially given him. After a moment, you released your lip and sighed, "You already know."

He immediately looked pleased above you, though when he spoke, you could once again hear the hint of irritation. "I do. However, it would thrill me to hear It from your own lips."

"Of course it would," you murmured, fully aware he heard you. This was it. Your heart was hammering in your chest, thundering in your ears. "My ultimate fantasy...." you paused, a blush spreading over your cheeks. "It's you. You're waiting for me, and you're so upset." your eyes closed, bringing the memory of your dreams closer to his own. "You never say what's wrong. You just... you grab me and give me this look. And I know what you want, so I ask for it." your voice trembled, dipping so low your voice broke into nothing. It was one thing to dream, but to admit the dreams to someone? Not just normal dreams, but ones that would make most people want to send you away in disgust. 

"What do you ask for?"

"I ask you to hurt me." Above you, he made a hum of interest. You ignored it for the moment, because if you started on that, you'd lose your nerve. "I look you in the eye and say, 'Do you wanna take it out on me?' And you give me a smile that makes my knees weak when you say yes." you stopped, opening your eyes to peer up through your lashes at him. "The one I enjoy the most... We made it a game. Like that time we played strip poker because you thought you could beat me." His satisfied smirk fell slightly, but when you offered a soft smile, it returned. "Most times it's a game of questions. I answer wrong, you come up with a punishment suitable to the offense."

"You are evading what I truly want to hear," he chastised.

You let out a soft chuckle, "Who me?" He narrowed his eyes at your and you stared into his gaze, transfixed. "What do you wanna know?"

Slowly, he moved from over you, settling fluidly onto the plush bed covers beside you. "Everything."

With another sigh, you lifted one hand, covering your eyes. He was toying with you, pushing you, and you were allowing it. "You never hit me. Not with your own hand, at least. You did once with a belt. The leather was warm, the sting when it hit sent shockwaves dancing over my skin. I breathed your name, and the belt struck again and I almost came apart on the bed. Two more strikes and you dropped it when I called out for you. I looked back to make sure you were still there and you were studying me with that deep in thought look only you can do well. 'Again,' you said, your voice husky and so damn sexy it made me tremble and I just couldn't think, but I knew what you wanted. Loki," you sighed out his name, your tongue caressing each syllable just like in your fantasy. You could feel his eyes on you, hear his breathing catch in his lungs at the way you said his name. Slowly, you removed your hand from your eyes, turning your head to face him. "That's all you wanted me to say. Just your name. Just... Loki. Over and over again. You blindfolded me and kissed me like I was the only woman in the universe." 

You paused as his hand lifted, his fingers gliding over your jaw and up your cheek. The look in his eyes, darkly desire filled and even slightly affectionate, was the most beautiful thing you'd ever seen. Aside from your Asgardian lover himself. Wait... you just thought of him as your actual lover. The realization made your heart flutter and your throat clench. Before you could compose yourself again, he was leaning forward, his upper body rising above you as he swept his lips across yours. It was the smallest of kisses, his lips cool and soft against yours. He followed it with another. Then another. Each one was deeper and more impassioned than the one before. His tongue touched your lips and you sighed into him, allowing him to claim another piece of you so completely. His hands were at your hips, gliding up over the silk of your gown to pull at the ties of your corset. The confining material loosened bit by bit as he swiftly unlaced it, his fingers wrapping about the silken ribbon to pull it free. His kiss never faltered as he peeled the leather and metal away from your bust. You squirmed under him, arching up into his chest as he flung the discarded garment across the room, and a small whimper left your lips when he broke away. His gaze on your was heavy lidded and such a deep, dark green you could very nearly see your reflection. 

"Do you want me?" Loki purred to your, and you could feel his fingers gathering in your gown, bunching the material in his fists. Unable to summon your voice--of course you honestly didn't think yourself capable of forming a coherent response, anyway--you simply nodded. He chuckled deeply, his chest rumbling with the sound, before continuing, "Beg for me, Midgardian."

"No," you were speaking before you knew what was leaving your mouth, "Not here. Not to the dream you."

His spark of anger was instantaneous, flaring in his eyes as he stared down at you. "You dare deny me." It wasn't a question, simply a statement to express his disbelief. 

Instinctively, your arms rose to curl loosely around his shoulders, your fingertips edging into the dark hair at the nape of his neck. "I'd rather be with the real you when I beg for you to take me.” With considerable effort, you pushed yourself away from him. Away from the dream world he was holding you to. You could hear his enraged calls of your name and a small smirk touched your lips. He would follow.


End file.
